The Doctors' Christmas Reunion / Unwrapping The Neurosurgeon's Heart. Meredith Webber
‘This Men’s Shed is a good idea,’ he said. ‘I’ll phone Ray at the pub about old plastic chairs.’
Ellie smiled at him, feeling that this was as close to normal as they’d been for many, many months.
Could working together on a project like this heal the breach between them?
Or was it simply because they had a third person around—someone with her own problems—that the tension between herself and Andy seemed to have eased somewhat?
Andy had barely left the room when his phone rang.
It was Madeleine Courtney, who was feeling faint and dizzy, and wondering if it could be delayed concussion.
‘Are you at the hospital?’ he asked.
‘No, I didn’t like to drive,’ came the weak and plaintive reply.
‘Then I’ll let Ellie know and she’ll come to you,’ Andy said. ‘She’s your GP.’
He could hear Madeleine suggesting he’d be better, but he stopped the conversation, returning to the kitchen where Ellie was on her own, doing the last of the wiping down of the benches.
‘It’s Madeleine Courtney,’ he said, aware that the name had come out as a growl. ‘She thinks she might have delayed concussion.’
‘She’s at home?’ Ellie asked, and he nodded.
‘I’ll go,’ Ellie told him. ‘But if there’s any doubt at all she should be in hospital, shouldn’t she?’
The frown on her face told him more than the words.
‘Is there something wrong with her?’ he asked.
‘Apart from a maybe concussion that had her phoning you rather than me?’ Ellie muttered. ‘I’m beginning to think she feels I’ve failed her. There’s nothing I can find—or have found so far—but you know full well that we do miss things.’
She sighed, then gave a little shrug.
‘I’ll go and see her and if I’m worried I’ll drive her to the hospital myself and ask the staff to do hourly obs. And maybe if she’s in hospital you can run more tests on her to see if I’ve missed something. Her symptoms are so vague, and change from pains in the abdomen to pains in her shoulders, to general tiredness, fuzzy concentration and, really, there’s something new each visit. I’ve done tests for a thyroid condition—both hyper and hypo—but nothing’s come back positive.’
‘Could it be some kind of lupus, do you think?’
‘I really don’t know. None of the blood tests showed indications it could be that, and her urine analysis was clear, but I’ll keep looking.’
She sighed.
‘Sometimes I wonder if she’s just homesick, but she always talks quite happily about the school and all she’s doing.’
Ellie sounded so depressed by the thought Andy wanted to hug her.
Damn it all, why shouldn’t he?
He gathered her in his arms, holding her close.
‘We’ll work it out, I promise,’ he said, then bent and kissed her, a feather brush, nothing more, on the lips.
Startled blue eyes looked into his as Ellie shuffled back, turning towards the door, already on her way…
Escaping?
‘I’ll get her to the hospital. Should I ask for half-hourly obs? Quarter-hourly?’
She paused, looking up at him, doubt clouding her eyes.
Andy shrugged, then he remembered the light-hearted dinner they’d shared, the hug, the almost-not-there kiss, and swore softly.
‘No, damn it all! Why should either of us be running all over town after her? I’ll phone the ambulance to pick her up, and ask someone to call me as soon as she’s settled, then I’ll pop up and see her there. If there’s any doubt, I can repeat the X-rays and scans we’ve already done, just in case there’s something we’ve missed.’
‘Are you sure? I’m happy to go.’
‘No, let’s get her to hospital, then tomorrow, when we’ve both had a good night’s sleep, we can sit down with your notes and have a think about what the symptoms could indicate.’
‘You’ve got soccer tomorrow,’ she reminded him, and he was surprised she’d remembered.
‘We’ll do it after soccer.’
Andy phoned the ambulance and then the hospital, assuring them he’d be up to have a look at Madeleine, and ordering the X-rays of her head and neck.
He was about to leave when he thought of something, tapping on Ellie’s door before going in. She’d had a shower and was wrapped in a towel, her wet hair hanging straight down by her face.
How could he not remember times he’d have ripped off that towel and tumbled them both onto the bed? His voice was croaky when he said, ‘If we can’t find anything maybe we should send her to the city. They have the facilities—not to mention the budget—to run tests we couldn’t attempt.’
Ellie smiled at him, exacerbating all the reactions going on in his body.
‘You’d have to hope they find something—some of those tests cost a mint—and maybe it is nothing more than hypochondria.’
Andy didn’t respond but Ellie knew he would be grumbling and growling under his breath.
Could it be hypochondria? Ellie wondered when Andy left, fixing her mind on her patient to try to still the excitement Andy’s kiss earlier had left in its wake.
Unfortunately, there was a strong possibility there was something wrong with Madeleine, in which case both she and Andy would regret it if they didn’t do all they could for her.
Andy wandered off, probably to walk up to the hospital so he could meet the ambulance when it arrived.
Ellie shed her towel and pulled on pyjamas, glancing with a little regret at the pretty lingerie that occupied the other end of the drawer.
She laughed at her own stupidity. As if seducing her husband in sexy night attire could mend a marriage that harsh and hurtful words had ripped apart.
Ripped…
It was the strange word—describing well the seismic shift between them—that made her look through the more attractive negligees, down to the bottom of the pile where a dark blue, lacy, thigh-length piece of apparel still showed clearly that it had been ripped apart.
By passion, excitement, and a fiery need that could not be delayed…
And for a moment, holding it, she closed her eyes and remembered, awakening memories in her body as well, so she ached for Andy in a way she hadn’t since they’d split apart…
Could they heal the rift—cross the abyss between them?
Had she been so wrapped up in her own pain she’d not considered his?
If so, wasn’t it up to her to at least try to sort things out?
But where to start?
Determinedly putting aside such thoughts, she went in search of Chelsea. The teenager appeared to be coping well—talking enthusiastically about school and soccer—but the future of the child she would produce had hardly been mentioned.
Might she want to talk more about it?
And if so, should Ellie bring it up?
Doing so now, it would be as a friend. Or would it be better to do it at an appointment, as a doctor?
‘Come